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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925192">His Cup of Tea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeForTheWitch/pseuds/HopeForTheWitch'>HopeForTheWitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack-Treated-Seriously, F/M, Female Harry Potter, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Memory Loss, Unsafe Sex, locket!tom - Freeform, slight Breeding Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:34:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeForTheWitch/pseuds/HopeForTheWitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Locket!Tom takes Harry to a seedy hotel. Things devolve from there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Sirius Black/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Harry Potter/Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don’t know what this is. Don’t come at me with questions because I don’t know either lol. This was born out of a bunch of “seedy hotel” prompts from the sigmabot, starting with “your OT3 discovers a new kink in a seedy hotel” or something similar. I didn’t go with a new kink, but, well. Anyway, I don’t know who created it, but it’s in the Chamber of Secrets (among other servers I’m sure) and it’s got some really great prompts! (So in that sense, I stole the name Sigma. You'll see what I mean.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His first new memory is of falling in a dumpster. It’s wet and he’s dripping but at least the summer rain is warm. What he knows is this: his name is Sirius and he’s thirty-five years old. That’s where the knowledge ends, the rest just out of reach. He can feel it, thinks he could access it with enough effort, but he doesn’t possess the energy right now.</p><p>He crawls out of the dumpster, grimacing at the state of himself. He looks around but nothing is familiar, and so what he does is start walking as he takes stock of what else he knows. A glance at a soaked newspaper tells him the date and the year, but that doesn’t mean anything to him. He walks past a B&amp;B and it shakes loose memories of Knockturn Alley, knowing beyond a doubt that it’s somewhere he used to spend time, though he doesn’t know the how or why of it.</p><p>Knockturn Alley is familiar in a way he can’t place, because things don’t look the way they should. He feels there should be shops where there are now residential buildings, but he couldn’t tell you why, just that that’s how things are supposed to be. Things just look <em> wrong. </em></p><p>He stops in front of a shady building and stares at the facade. </p><p><em> The Seedy Hotel</em>, it reads.</p><p>Alright then.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>
  <em> Eighteen Months Later </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry slips out of Grimmauld Place unnoticed, hood up and cloak firmly wrapped around her shivering body. Under her shirt hangs the locket, the horcrux pulsing softly against her skin. She checks her watch and Disapparates. Knockturn Plaza is bustling with activity as it always is this late in the day. Harry follows a stream of people into Knockturn Alley, then ducks into a side street to make sure her hood is secured properly.</p><p>As she does so, her companion shimmers into existence, the thick fabric of the winter cloak hiding the glow of the locket. Tom looks at his hands and flexes his fingers, rolling his shoulders with a grimace, but then his expression morphs into one of relief. “Finally,” he sighs. Then he glares at Harry. “Really, you made me wait this long?” he snaps.</p><p>Harry gives him an innocent look. “I didn’t exactly have time to take you for a walk the past few weeks,” she says brightly, because she likes the way Tom’s eyes light up with fury at being compared to a dog of all things, the way his lips thin with anger. The sight never fails to take her breath away, because in those moments, few as they are, Tom’s blazing with life.</p><p>But Tom easily settles down again, understanding when he’s being baited. His nose wrinkles with distaste. “It smells terrible here, let’s go.” He walks off before Harry has a chance to get a response in. But he’s not in a hurry, waiting for Harry at the exit and then grabbing her hand in a light grip before pulling the girl into the throng of people. Weeks of staying in the locket means Tom’s able to stay fully corporeal for a day or so while they spend time together, which is something they rarely get to do.</p><p>Harry follows Tom until they find themselves in front of a rundown building with neon lettering on the facade. <em> The Seedy Hotel</em>. It certainly looks to live up to its name. Harry’s heard of it, of course she has, the establishment a popular source of tall tales at Hogwarts, but she’s never been here before.</p><p>When she hesitates on the doorstep, Tom gives her an impatient look over his shoulder and pulls her along, squeezing her hand. “C’mon,” he says. “It’ll be fine.”</p><p>What Tom wants is a night where there doesn’t exist a chance of being discovered, where they don’t have to rely on silencing spells and locking spells. The secrecy is fun yet frustrating, and Harry can understand where he’s coming from. Tom claims he’s stayed at the hotel plenty of time, whatever that’s supposed to mean.</p><p>“I thought it was a brothel,” Harry had said.</p><p>Tom’s lips had twisted into a smile. “Perhaps,” he’d said, and that’d been the end of it.</p><p>Standing in the foyer, Harry looks around curiously. Most of the interior is done in red velvet, from the chairs in the small lounge to the crimson carpet. The rest is all done in dark wood, walls and front desk included. A man stands with his back toward them, dressed in casual robes. He turns upon and smiles at them. “Good evening,” he says.</p><p>Just then, a woman comes ambling almost drunkenly out of the door behind the counter, though when she looks upon the couple, her gaze is sharp.</p><p>“Madam Sigma,” the man says, “I didn’t expect you to be up yet.”</p><p>The woman yawns widely. “I wasn’t expecting to be up yet either, but here we are.”</p><p>The man turns back toward Tom and Harry. “How may I serve?” he asks, voice smooth.</p><p><em> Serve</em>, dear god. Harry looks away, her cheeks heating up, though she’s fortunate enough her complexion doesn’t allow for easy blushing.</p><p>Tom takes charge. “A room for two and perhaps some… refreshments, if available.”</p><p>“Would you prefer coffee or tea?” the man behind the desk asks.</p><p>“Tea,” Tom says, but at the same time Harry perks up and says, “Oh, coffee, please.” They look at each other, Tom glaring while Harry just looks confused. Tom breaks the stare first and turns back to the receptionist. “Tea,” he repeats firmly. “<em> No </em> coffee.” He looks disgusted at the very thought of it. “No milk, no sugar, please.”</p><p>Madam Sigma smirks knowingly but she doesn’t say anything.</p><p>“When would you like this delivered to you?” the man asks.</p><p>Tom looks at his watch. It’s a little past eleven. “Midnight would be agreeable.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The room they’re shown is small yet cosy, with only a bed and two nightstands and a wardrobe. There’s a bathroom but that too is very basic, no bath but it does have a shower. All of it looks clean enough. The red theme seems to have stopped in the hallway, because the bedroom and the bathroom are done in blues. Harry jumps onto the bed, delighted when she bounces back. The sheets are <em> soft</em>.</p><p>“You’re a child,” Tom tells him but Harry merely sticks her tongue out in reply. Calmly he takes his shoes off, setting them in front of the nightstand where they disappear into thin air. Tom can just wish himself naked if he wanted to, but no, he never does.</p><p>Harry just kicks her shoes off and throws them in the far corner. “Are we staying up here all night?” she asks as she settles against the headboard. She bats her eyelashes at Tom until the young man joins her.</p><p>“If you want, but there’s a bar downstairs,” Tom says.</p><p>“Is that the stripclub?”</p><p>“You want to go to the stripclub?” Tom asks with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>“Er.” Harry scratches the back of her head in thought. “Maybe? I mean, since we’re here and all.” She shrugs.</p><p>Tom is judging her in silence for a very long moment before he breaks and sighs, “<em>Harry</em>.” Then he chuckles and kisses her. It’s rather chaste for all the privacy they have here, so Harry hums into the kiss and leans in closer for more. “Greedy girl,” Tom murmurs against her lips.</p><p>Harry smiles. “Very,” she agrees. “But you like that about me.”</p><p>“I do,” Tom says.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The thing is.</p><p>The thing is that Harry was supposed to give up ownership of the locket as soon as she started feeling the effects of it. It’s what they agreed on at the beginning, her, Hermione and Ron, and yet here she is, <em> months </em>later, still with the chain around her neck, the locket resting against her chest day in, day out. It’s like Ron and Hermione forgot, because they haven’t asked about it either. </p><p>During their hunt for the other horcruxes, Harry hasn’t been able to give Tom a lot of freedom, constantly on the move with her friends, but every now and then she’s able to find a spot of privacy for the both of them, tonight being one of those times.</p><p>She doesn’t think her friends will notice her absence until they wake up, so she left them a note telling them she’ll be back around noon. They’ll probably go ballistic if they notice the thing in her bed is a dummy rather than her, but surely they’ll forgive her sooner rather than later for worrying them.</p><p>Harry’s common sense <em> may </em>have taken a backseat in the face of her infatuation.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It’s close to midnight when there’s a knock on the door. Harry feels too lazy to get up, so it’s Tom who gets the door, dressed in nothing but a silky bathrobe. Harry’s just admiring the view of his arse when Tom starts laughing hysterically. “Come in, come in, I apologise,” he says, stepping aside to let— </p><p>“What the fuck?”</p><p>The man, not much older than Tom, winks. “Hello, gorgeous.” The door falls shut behind him. “Oh no, I spot tears, that’s not how I’m usually greeted.” He looks at Tom, who’s grinning widely. “I didn’t sign up for that, you know.”</p><p>Harry’s not crying, she’s <em> not</em>, though she’s close. “<em>Sirius</em>.”</p><p>“Yes, that’s me!” the man says brightly.</p><p>He looks <em> exactly </em> like an older version of the Sirius Harry’s seen in old photographs, those from before Azkaban, though there’s something wild about him that wasn’t in the photos. Harry doesn’t know what it is, but it gets to her all the same. He’s so <em> handsome</em>, the dark curls and those expressive grey eyes, the set of his mouth relaxed despite Harry’s imminent break-down.</p><p>“You don’t—you don’t recognise me?” Harry asks in a small voice.</p><p>“Of course,” Sirius says with a nod. He sets a tray on the bedside table. “You’re Harry Potter, Girl-Savior extraordinaire.” He grins. “Girl-Who-Lived and all that. Don’t worry, I’m not in the habit of judging our guests or telling tales.”</p><p>Harry blinks away tears. “No, that’s not—you don’t remember me,” she concludes, deflating visibly.</p><p>“I’m sorry, no,” Sirius says. “We knew each other?” He seems to perk up at that.</p><p>Meanwhile, Tom leans against the wardrobe and he crosses his arms in front of his chest, his robe falling open as he does so. His eyes rest mostly on Harry, though sometimes he glances at Sirius, giving him a once-over then staring at his broad shoulders. He doesn’t seem to care about his lack of modesty, and he doesn’t seem inclined to butt in, letting Harry deal with this on her own, that bastard.</p><p>“You’re…” Harry trails off. “Yeah, we did,” she whispers instead.</p><p>“Is that going to be a problem?” Sirius asks.</p><p>“No,” Tom says with some finality in his voice.</p><p>“Alright. Tea, no milk, no sugar, coming right up.”</p><p>Tom smirks.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Who knew that <em> tea</em>, <em> sugar </em> and <em> milk </em>are all goddamn codewords?</p><p>Harry sure as hell didn’t, doesn’t expect it until Tom steps closer to Sirius and runs his hands down Sirius’ chest, settling on his hips, hooking his fingers into belt loops. Sirius makes a low noise in his chest and turns. Harry isn’t done with the conversation yet, isn’t quite done getting over the fact that this is Sirius, somehow, but Tom and Sirius have a very different set of plans, which Harry only realises when Tom pulls Sirius closer and kisses him.</p><p>Harry’s brain short-circuits.</p><p>She had no idea this was a thing she wanted to see until right this moment, but watching their lips move together slowly, a hint of teeth and a hint of tongue showing, gets to her faster than a direct handjob would’ve. The wet sounds and the little gasps are loud in the otherwise quiet room, but then Harry gulps audibly and they break apart.</p><p>“I thought whores didn’t kiss,” Tom says with glistening lips. He licks them, which just makes it worse.</p><p>“Good thing I’m not a whore then,” Sirius answers, voice sharp in warning.</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom whispers and then he closes the distance between them again, walking Sirius backward until he drops down onto the bed.</p><p>Harry watches with wide eyes. She had no idea Tom had this in mind when he suggested <em> The Seedy Hotel</em>. There’s no way Tom could have known that it’d be Sirius at their door, but he’d clearly done some secret communication with the staff, because they’d sent someone upstairs and this, the rapidly escalating kiss, had been part of it. Or maybe—maybe it’d been optional, not necessarily a sure thing yet until Tom had talked it over with Harry.</p><p>That would make more sense, and yet it doesn’t answer all of it.</p><p>“I’m… so confused,” she mutters, but she can’t look away, there’s something mesmerising about the two. Her favourite people in the world, though in a far away part of her mind she knows that’s not exactly right, but she’s too busy focusing on the way her throat closes up and her chest tightens with the amount of <em> love </em>she feels.</p><p>“Harry,” Tom says, “stop worrying so much. Just relax.”</p><p>Harry tries, she does, but she has so many questions that it’s difficult for her to focus on anything but the nagging feeling that something’s wrong. But then Tom crawls over and straddles her legs and kisses those worries away, his clever tongue distracting Harry from everything that’s <em> not </em> Tom. For a moment there, she even forgets about Sirius, but then large hands settle on Tom’s waist, right underneath Harry’s, and she instantly recognises those as <em> not-Tom</em>.</p><p>She cracks her eyes open and stares into pupils large enough that the grey is merely a thin ring around the black. Her breathing hitches, but Tom pinches her arm and then it’s gone again. Relax, Tom had said, okay, she can do that. Her eyes close of their own volition when Tom’s hands move to cup her breasts, but she forces them back open because she doesn’t want to miss anything of what those two get up to, she wants <em> all </em>of it. </p><p>Greedy, Tom had called her. </p><p>That’s… strangely accurate, she certainly feels greedy now.</p><p>And then Sirius comes closer and Tom half-turns in Harry’s lap and they’re kissing again, slow and sensual, with plenty of approving sounds that go straight to her groin.</p><p>It’s a performance, Harry realises stupidly, meant for <em>her.</em></p><p>She settles further into her skin then, relaxing further, and slowly she manages to muffle the sound of the alarm bells ringing in her ears, and then there’s only Tom and Sirius making out like they’re starving for it.</p><p>God<em>damn</em>.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When Madam Sigma said <em> tea </em>was to be served in room 5 at the indicated timeslot, Sirius was bored and itching for something, whether that something was a fight or sex he didn’t much care. He’s not one of her whores, not exactly anyway, but he freely makes use of the fact that people think he’s one of her prostitutes. It’s a stroke of luck that he landed on her doorstep a year and a half ago, really, because he doesn’t know how he’d deal with that high libido otherwise.</p><p>A little before midnight he takes the tray with the refreshments and goes upstairs, wondering what’s waiting on the other side. If it’s that cute couple he saw come in earlier in the evening, well, he’d love to be all over that.</p><p>And then the door opens, and it <em> is </em> the couple from earlier, Sirius is delighted to note. If they find his presence agreeable, and people usually do, this has the potential of being more fun than that business dude from two weeks ago, who’d seemed all stammering and insecure but ended up being a fucking sex god when he got going.</p><p>The man greeting him at the door in nothing but a bathrobe seems to be the one taking charge while the girl, perhaps a tad too young for either of the men, is a whole lot confused about the proceedings. Sirius can tell, because he got good at keeping track of his surroundings even in the midst of a breathtaking kiss, and boy is that man a great kisser. </p><p>Business-man’s got <em> nothing </em>on him.</p><p>For a few moments there, Sirius thinks the girl is going to be a problem. She seems to recognise him and then she gets <em> emotional </em>over it, and Sirius doesn’t know anything about her beyond what the papers are saying about her, and considering whose pocket the Daily Prophet is in, well. At least the Knightly Knewspaper, while slightly behind the Prophet when it comes to mainstream news, reports on a wider variety of newsworthy events and offers a different point of view.</p><p>“You know my name, but I don’t know yours,” Sirius says, not in the mood for teasing wordplays and games and hints.</p><p>“You may call me Tom,” the young man says, lips twisted into the mockery of a smile. “You already know Harry.”</p><p>Sirius nods and sits back.</p><p>They’re an odd pair to look at, though they seem to fit together well enough. Harry is as plain as Tom is pretty, but her eyes are large and so green and Merlin, her <em> tits </em> ; Sirius will be the last to question Tom’s tastes, he understands that much. He wonders if the girl will let him closer, or if she’ll stay skittish all throughout. Touching Tom isn’t exactly a hardship, and Sirius won’t be heartbroken if he won’t get to fuck the girl, but damn. The two of them are <em> something</em>, all right.</p><p>“I think we were a bit hasty,” Tom says smoothly. “We should perhaps talk first.”</p><p>“No <em> shit</em>,” the girl snaps, then she takes a deep breath, her breasts lifting with the action, and Sirius has to rip his eyes away from her tight shirt lest he’ll get caught staring, and while he normally wouldn’t give a shit, he’s not sure how she’ll react to that. He’d rather not risk triggering whatever’s going on with her.</p><p>The three of them get comfortable on the bed, Harry staying near the headboard while Sirius hangs half over the raised footboard, Tom reclining in the middle, leaning back on his elbows and staring up at the ceiling. Sirius resists the urge to get closer and lick the long line of his throat, holding onto the wood instead.</p><p>“I wasn’t expecting you when I ordered,” Tom says lightly, glancing at the tray on the nightstand, where there’s coffee, tea, some milk and some sugar on the side. The type of tea he ordered at the front desk has nothing to do with that, though it seems Harry isn’t as aware of that as the other two in the room. “As you know, we… recognise you, but you don’t seem to know us. It’s a happy coincidence for Harry. Do you know what happened?”</p><p>“I don’t remember anything, no.” Sirius reflects back on the fucking dumpster he found himself in, his first real memory, and thinks, no, this isn’t happening. “But here’s the thing. I don’t <em> know </em>you and I’d prefer not to talk about that, it tends to ruin the mood.” He has plenty of questions, but this is not what he came here for. “Please, don’t pretend you’re some sort of knight in shining armour, rescuing me.”</p><p>“But you’re a <em> prostitute</em>,” Harry says. She looks hurt.</p><p>Sirius grimaces. “Let’s get that out of the way first. No, I am not a prostitute. I just fill in for them sometimes, when I feel like it.” He squares his shoulders, unashamed of who and what he is. “Tonight, I happened to feel like it. If you’d prefer someone else, then by all means.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Tom and Harry say in tandem, though with vastly different tones.</p><p>Sirius has half a mind to leave, because it seems too personal to Harry, and personal isn’t what he does. “Either we fuck, or we talk.”</p><p>“We fuck,” Tom says, and Harry says, “we talk,” and then they glare at each other.</p><p>This isn’t what Sirius signed up for when he came into the room. This is definitely becoming too personal too fast, and he’s not up for that, just as he’s not up for women only. He’s had a shitty day, he’s bored and horny, aggression bubbling under his skin, and he agrees with Tom, would vastly prefer the fucking over the talking, thanks. “I’d prefer to fuck, too,” Sirius says casually.</p><p>“But—” Harry starts to protest, but Tom grabs her wrist, and she falls silent.</p><p>Interesting effect.</p><p>“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Tom says, his expression void of emotion. He moves his arms behind his head. “Doesn’t mean I won’t take him up on that offer.”</p><p>Harry swallows. </p><p>This is going to be a long night, isn’t it.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Harry is many things, but<em> in the mood for sex </em> is not one of them, no matter how hot the men with her in the room are and the knowledge that she <em> could </em> if she wanted to. Average girls like her don’t get to have men as attractive as them, that’s practically a universal rule, yet instead of being excited by the prospect, she’s just unsure if she even wants to. It would be so wrong, because chances are this is actually Sirius, who should be dead. She watched him fall through the veil two years ago, she was <em> there</em>. She grieved him terribly, pangs of hurt so strong they still weaken her knees sometimes.</p><p>Now here she is. </p><p>Tom’s arms are the only parts of him covered by the thin bathrobe he decided to dress himself in, while Sirius is dressed in a dark button-up and grey slacks, both of them exuding sexual confidence in waves. Harry’s shirt is possibly too tight for her body-type, or at least she’s super conscious of herself right now, and the hem of her skirt is fraying. She’s the one out of place in this hotel room, like a misstep in a dance.</p><p>“You got any rules?” Tom asks.</p><p>“How opposed are you to the <em> sugar </em>part?” Sirius returns. He stretches his legs, his socked feet poking Tom’s thigh.</p><p>Harry tilts her head in overwhelmed interest. <em> Sugar</em>? What’s that supposed to mean? Neither of the men have chosen to enlighten confused little Harry about what the terms and conditions are of this arrangement, though in all fairness it seems they’re about to change them right then and there. </p><p>“Well.” Tom grabs Sirius’ ankle. “If you’re up for it…”</p><p>“I am,” Sirius says. “What about you, Harry?”</p><p>Harry narrows her eyes, utterly lost. “You’re asking me if I want sugar, whatever the hell that means. It would help if someone would take two seconds out of their precious time to just explain things to me, you know.”</p><p>Sirius chuckles, and Tom says, “I think I’ll enjoy it more if you don’t know.”</p><p>Harry’s outraged, because if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s not knowing, and the bastard is perfectly aware of that. “That’s—”</p><p>“Harry, darling, you should know by now that I prefer you stumbling your way through life,” he grins, a hint of that ever present darkness shining through. “Let me guide you through it.” He sits up further, leaning on his hands instead of his elbows, eyes deceptively innocent as he looks at her. “<em>Trust me</em>.”</p><p>Harry doesn’t know how <em> not </em>to trust him by now, but that doesn’t mean it sits well with her. She has no time to form a proper argument and she’s definitely not prepared to have her breath stolen from her, yet Tom kisses her anyway, slowly, like he has all the time in the world. Like they’re not being watched avidly by the third person in the room, by Sirius fucking Black. He kisses her until her mind is blissfully silent and her heart is pounding a mile a minute between her ribs. He pulls on her shoulders and she comes over willingly, her turn to straddle his hips, her knees on his bathrobe and pulling the fabric further away from his body.</p><p>Tom pulls her skirt out from between them, and then it’s only her panties between their sexes. He’s not hard under her, not yet, but getting him there always sends a thrill of excitement down her spine, that she’s the cause. It surprises her that he’s into men as he never told her, but then, it’s not a subject that’s ever come up between them; he’s had no <em> reason </em>to tell her, and Tom’s sly like that, omitting little things here and there, winding the truth so tightly around her that she doesn’t know the beginning from the end, knows only what he tells her.</p><p>She understands suddenly that while the performance between Tom and Sirius was meant for her, the night is meant for Tom. She sits back, staring at him, wondering what he wants. Does he want her to continue, to make him hard and then step back, or does he want Sirius to do these things to him and more?</p><p>Tom gives her a final kiss then pushes her back toward the headboard. “Sit there and be pretty, darling,” he says before turning toward Sirius. Harry thinks he looks dishevelled and inviting, something to feast on, but that’s not up to her right now.</p><p>It seems Sirius shares that opinion, unfurling and watching the other man with dark eyes as he crawls closer. “Is it my turn?” he purrs.</p><p>In his lap, Tom’s cock twitches.</p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sirius whispers before capturing Tom’s lips. </p><p>Tom’s groan is unexpectedly loud, his hands clenched in the sheets and his cock rapidly gaining an interest in the proceedings, Sirius hand resting idly on Tom’s chest. “You’re really good at that,” he says huskily between more kisses.</p><p>“I may have had some practice,” Sirius grins.</p><p>“I can tell.”</p><p>Sirius cocks an eyebrow. “Been a while?”</p><p>Tom clears his throat. “With another man? Yeah.”</p><p>“Will you both <em> shut </em> up and go back to kissing? Thanks,” Harry complains. They can bond later, she’s getting interested in the Tom-and-Sirius show now, one that she hadn’t known she wanted but god she’s <em> invested </em>now, like she has a personal stake in it. It’s ridiculous and a little worrying but Harry easily shoves those feelings aside in the face of seeing her favourite men together. Tunnel-vision, her brain a blank canvas, ready for them to paint their tryst on.</p><p>Tom gives her a lazy and half-lidded <em> look</em>, as if he sees right through her. He probably does, Harry’s never pretended to be anything but transparent, at least not to him. Sirius looks amused by her outburst, so there’s that too. She can’t be bothered to feel ashamed by it.</p><p>Tom’s hands are notably shaking when he attempts to rid Sirius of his button-up, and Sirius quickly moves to help him. “Off,” Tom commands.</p><p>“Easy there, princess,” Sirius chuckles.</p><p>Tom looks annoyed. “Not <em> princess</em>,” he protests. “I’m the da—oh, <em> hmm</em>, I like that.” He cuts himself off when Sirius abruptly attaches himself to Tom’s throat, sinking his teeth into hot flesh that’ll feel as real as Harry’s tonight. “Sensitive,” he hisses through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Good,” Sirius says, nearly inaudible. “Got anything against marks?”</p><p>“Not if they’re—” </p><p>“Tom,” Harry giggles, knowing exactly where Tom’s mind went. “He means on <em> you</em>.”</p><p>Tom pauses. “Of course.” Clears his throat. “No marks.”</p><p>“Alright,” Sirius says, a little bemused but taking it at face value.</p><p>“By god, but you’re <em> really </em>handsome,” Tom says.</p><p>“Thanks, love.” Sirius leans back with amusement evident on his face. “Can say the same about you, you know.”</p><p>Tom <em> never </em> gets like this with Harry, rapidly approaching the mental state of <em> utterly overwhelmed</em>, and while part of her is raging with jealousy, there’s a larger part of her that’s intrigued by this side of him. Is it because Tom’s just really fucking gay and never bothered to tell her? Or is it just Sirius? Harry remembers the first time she saw him cleaned up and hale, the way she’d quaked in her boots with arousal when the most he’d done was put his hands on her shoulders and smiled at her. </p><p>She <em> gets </em>it.</p><p>Sirius undoes the buttons of his shirt then throws it somewhere to the side, exposing a firm chest and thick arms and Harry’s mouth dries up. She’s not the only one with a reaction, because Tom’s breath hitches in his throat, and he swallows audibly. Tom’s own build is wiry and lithe, strong yet slim, whereas Sirius is all muscle to the point of vanity, preening a little under their attention, obviously pleased with himself, unashamed.</p><p>“You like?” he has the nerve to ask.</p><p>Harry gives him a flat look, unimpressed, and Sirius has the audacity to wink.</p><p>What a—</p><p>“It takes work, you know,” he sniffs haughtily.</p><p>“I’m sure it does,” Harry says sweetly, biting back something about Sirius being a piece of work indeed. There’s a small part of her that is still protesting what’s going on, screaming something or other about Sirius never wanting this when he was alive, which is incidentally the same part of her that’s still roaring with jealousy, but the thing is, he <em> is </em> alive. And clearly, <em> very </em>clearly if the bulge in his slacks is any indication, he’s interested. There’s no reason not to keep going, to interrupt.</p><p>There’s a short-lived struggle and then Tom’s sitting up and pinning Sirius to the bed, eyes gleaming. “Stronger than you look,” Sirius breathes appreciatively. It’s his turn to recline on his elbows, head dropping back with a rumbling chest noise when Tom worms his hand between the two of them and starts working on Sirius’ trousers. “Hmm, and very clever fingers,” he comments, biting his lip when Tom does something Harry can’t see.</p><p>Harry feels like she’s merely part of the décor while the men attempt to devour each other, like they forgot she’s even there. She would’ve been insulted if she hadn’t seen the heated gazes they throw at each other; there truly is nobody else in the room but them. Insecurity starts to slowly knot itself around her throat like a noose.</p><p>Sirius’ trousers come off and are shoved to the foot-end of the bed, his erection straining his navy boxers, just a shade off from matching the sheets. Tom shimmies out of the bathrobe that came with the room, and then he leans down and mouths at the line of Sirius’ cock through his boxers, their eyes locked, Tom’s hand resting on Sirius’ stomach.</p><p>“Can I suck you?” Tom asks.</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>, fuck, do it,” Sirius says with a firm nod, eyes half-lidded but unable to look away.</p><p>Tom pulls the boxers down, freeing Sirius’ erection, fully hard with a drop of precum hanging from the tip. Tom leans in to lick it off, and Sirius fists clench in the soft sheets on either side of his hips, as if he wants to grab Tom but is restraining himself.</p><p>“Suck me,” he says hoarsely.</p><p>Tom lowers himself on Sirius’ cock with a hum while Sirius bites at his knuckles, eyes squeezed closed because Tom has no gag reflex to speak off, even though he sounds as if he’s choking and gagging, and from the looks of it he’s demonstrating this. Sirius’ mouth opens on a loud exhale and he rolls his hips upwards, Tom making protesting noises but otherwise not fighting it.</p><p>For long moments all Harry can feel is viscous cock-envy while jealousy tightens its hand around her heart. She feels left out, very much like a third wheel, and she has half a mind to get up and leave the hotel room, fantasies of being followed and begged to come back running through her mind. She entertains the thought while she watches Tom bobbing his head, eyes unseeing as she thinks of storming out dramatically, ruining their moment, perhaps even with tears in her eyes. They’d come after her and whisk her back into the hotel room and put her between the two of them, lavishing her with attention and apologies.</p><p>She begins to sit up but then Sirius arches off the mattress with a loud curse, and it pops the bubble she found herself in. The moment passes; she doesn’t run, sinking back down between the pillows with her tail between her legs.</p><p>“Let me fuck your mouth, pretty boy,” Sirius breathes. “I want t—” He happens to look in Harry’s direction, and suddenly he’s frowning and that doesn’t look right, and he’s pushing Tom’s shoulders. “Wait, stop, <em> stop</em>.” He sits up and Tom releases his cock with an obscene sound, moving away from him, and then two flushed faces stare at her. “Hey, are you okay?” Sirius asks.</p><p>Harry nods, mouth dry. “Yeah, why?”</p><p>Tom frowns at her. “<em>Why</em>, she asks,” he says, like it’s obvious.</p><p>Maybe it is.</p><p>“I should’ve known, we should’ve talked first,” Sirius says a little sheepishly. “Let me guess, you’re feeling lonely on your own over there?” His eyes are knowing, as if this is a scenario he’s run into before. In all likelihood he has, if this is something he does often enough.</p><p>Tom wipes his mouth and sits up as well, moving further onto the bed rather than staying on his knees between Sirius’ legs. “You should’ve said something,” he admonishes. “How are we supposed to know what’s going on if you just sit there in silence?”</p><p>Sirius puts a hand on his thigh, silencing anything else that might’ve come out of Tom’s insensitive mouth, for which Harry is immensely grateful. The last thing she needs is Tom going on a rant about her insecurities and her flaws, not right now, maybe not ever, but the  latter would be too much to hope for; Tom has a lot of opinions. “You know what I think?” Sirius says, and then he crosses his legs at the ankle. “I think you’re overdressed.”</p><p>Tom snorts. “<em> That’s </em> what you’re going with?”</p><p>“Hush, you,” Sirius says, “let me handle it.”</p><p>Handle, like she’s a <em> problem</em>. Hurt blossoms in her chest, worse than the jealousy and the loneliness. “I’m not some child you need to wrangle,” she says, sharper than she’d intended.</p><p>“That was a poor choice of words,” Sirius says smoothly, and he lets go of Tom’s thigh, though he doesn’t move away. His eyes sweep over Harry’s chest, lingering on her low neckline. “Why don’t you take your shirt off, sweetheart, show us those tits.” He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I bet they look real good, don’t they?”</p><p>“Who <em> says </em>that,” Tom mutters, though he seems amused.</p><p>“Well, do they?” Sirius asks him. “You’d know.”</p><p>“They do,” Tom confirms.</p><p>Harry has to ignore the both of them if she wants to get anything done, so she pulls her shirt over her head and carelessly drops it. It throws her hair into disarray, but she can’t really care much about that when she’s too embarrassed about the state of her bra, worn and shapeless. While Hermione has plenty of cute bras, it’s harder for Harry to find any in her size, so she sticks to her old ones. She gets rid of it fast.</p><p>And that’s how Harry finds herself sitting topless in a room at <em> The Seedy Hotel</em>, with Sirius and Tom both staring at her chest with something akin to approval. She feels like she’s being herded like a spooked animal, or worse, <em> a child</em>, but she still prefers that over being the forgotten one.</p><p>“Much better,” Sirius murmurs.</p><p>And then she remembers that this isn’t about her, even though she accidentally made it about her. This is supposed to be for Tom, because as he said, it’s been a long time since he’s been with a man, and she can’t take that from him. She doesn’t want to go back to being wallpaper but she doesn’t want to be in the way either, and she’s paralysed with indecision. If only she had some sort of rewind button, so she could’ve avoided Sirius’ gaze in the first place, then he wouldn’t have made mention of it, she’s sure of that at least.</p><p>But it seems Sirius and Tom don’t have suchlike problems moving forward if the way they come together is any indication, locking lips again and going back to their kissing as if there hadn’t been a pause in the proceedings. But then Sirius pulls away and licks his lips as he looks at her, and he pats the space between them. “C’mere, baby.” </p><p>Harry feels hot, the sight of the men together combined with Sirius’ old endearment for her are a combination that gets her wetter than anything else has so far.</p><p>“I love endearments, but...” Sirius blinks and he tilts his head with confusion evident on his face. “I honestly don’t know where that one came from.”</p><p>“Not part of your usual repertoire?” Tom asks, running a hand lightly down Sirius’ chest.</p><p>“Not that I know, no. Princess, love, darling, sweetheart, flower... I’m all for those, but I don’t remember ever calling anyone <em> baby </em>before.” He looks a little confused, if not a little disturbed.</p><p>“Does it need to be a problem?”</p><p>Sirius shakes his head. “No, it’s just a curiosity. Do you mind?” he asks Harry.</p><p>“It used to be what you called Harry in private, but I gather you have no memories of any of that,” Tom explains instead of letting Harry answer, which is fine, because Harry’s mouth has closed up at the memories. Tom may not have been there for it, but she told him about it one night. “She doesn’t mind,” he decides for her.</p><p>Harry doesn’t, is the thing. In fact, she would <em> kill </em>for the chance to hear it again. </p><p>“I’m going to ask something really uncomfortable, but I want an answer regardless.” Sirius takes a deep breath. “Do you want to pretend I’m him? Because I could give it a try.”</p><p>Harry gives a shaky nod, struck mute.</p><p>“Tell me about him, then.”</p><p>“He was her father’s best friend,” Tom says.</p><p>“And he called you <em> baby</em>?” Sirius laughs, long and hard. “Oh, <em> honey</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Sirius snickers.</p><p><em> Priceless</em>, he thinks, watching the girl shrink in on herself with shame. She probably has no idea that her father’s best friend had wanted her. He <em> must </em>have, if he had a private little endearment for her. “None of that now,” he says, patting the space between him and the younger man. They’re probably not very far apart in age, but Sirius is clearly the older of the two. He really doesn’t want to think of how young the Girl-Who-Lived is, certainly too young for either of them.</p><p>If he truly is who they believe him to be, then there must’ve been <em> something </em>about her that appealed to him, something that weighed heavier than a tight friendship with her father, but as he sees her crawl her way over to them, he can’t imagine anything like that. </p><p>There <em> has </em> to be something about her, but what is it? She’s definitely not ugly, just average, and Sirius never settles for average. Sirius loves pretty little things, and while she’s small—well, not <em> all </em> of her—she’s just not what one would consider pretty, not like her companion, who is absolutely <em> stunning.</em></p><p>It can’t have been just her tits.</p><p>Maybe she has an interesting personality, but none of that really shows tonight because she’s insecure and nervous. But Sirius tries to keep an open mind, and maybe once she’s past her initial nerves more of her personality will shine through. Just, how to get her there?</p><p>When she’s seated between them, her skirt ridden up to expose her thighs, Sirius takes a moment to decide on what to do. While on the one hand he could very much enjoy a night alone with Tom, they can’t go on ignoring the girl, she deserves better than that. So far it seems Tom is the one guiding the girl through tonight, but he hasn’t done much guiding, has he? Just deciding for her, which doesn’t really count. </p><p>What does <em> Harry </em>want?</p><p>“Can I touch you, baby?” Sirius asks. He doesn’t miss the way she tenses slightly, the minute jerk of her leg when he touches her knee, the way her breath hitches in her throat. Did she respond to her father’s best friend like that? If so, he can start to see the appeal a little, quiet little thing like that all flustered and innocent and ripe for the picking.</p><p>Then, shyly, she grabs his hand and moves it to her chest instead. He can feel her heartbeat strong and fast under the palm of his hand, cupping her breast. “You asked to touch me, didn’t you?” she asks, looking at him through her eyelashes.</p><p>Yeah, maybe he gets it a little.</p><p>“Did you let him touch you?” he can’t help but ask.</p><p>She’s sporting a small smile, biting her lip lightly. “I wanted to, but he—I mean, I get it, I was fifteen at the time, so he wasn’t interested.”</p><p>“<em>Fifteen</em>,” Sirius gapes at her. “And he just—please tell me I didn’t.”</p><p>“You didn’t,” Tom says. “No matter how much she begged him.”</p><p>“You begged?” That must’ve been a sight.</p><p>Tom is grinning widely, clearly amused by all of it, and they share a look, Sirius cocking an eyebrow at the shameless man. There’s something off about him, but Sirius can’t place it, and suddenly the entire evening seems surreal to him. This was not how he expected the night to turn out when he first knocked on the door.</p><p>“Sometimes he let me sit on him and h-he was h-hard,” Harry discloses softly, giving him a guilty look. “That’s about the most we ever did, I promise.” She looks earnest, with those big green eyes of her. She wears her shame well and she leans into his touch, and slowly Sirius starts to understand where his previous self was coming from, pervert though he clearly was.</p><p>This is—</p><p>“You didn’t do anything untoward,” she continues, as if she were the one at fault.</p><p> Sirius’ answering chuckle has a note of hysteria attached to it, because in the words of Madam Sigma, this is a land mine he is <em> not </em>prepared to deal with. He can safely say he’s disgusted with his past self, even as he sort of gets it now that he’s dealing with the only slightly older version of the girl.</p><p>“Let’s just… not talk about that,” Sirius suggests. “Let’s focus on the here and now.”</p><p>Because <em> Merlin </em>save him from predatory ghosts.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>There is a tension in the air that Harry hadn’t foreseen when she told Sirius about what they used to do, like he doesn’t approve but he doesn’t come out and say it. Instead what he does is cup both of her breasts and squeezes lightly while refocusing the conversation on something else. Harry stopped listening the moment he squeezed, caught up in the sensation of Sirius hands on her.</p><p>She knows Sirius judges his past self for what he did with fifteen year old Harry, but he doesn’t know in what state he’d been in. It hadn’t been as bad as it sounds now, it truly hadn’t, but she knows exactly what current Sirius is thinking. It’s what everyone will think, should they know about it. It’s sad, really, because it’d been a comfort to the both of them, something to keep the nightmares at bay. Besides, Sirius only let himself touch her when he drank, and never under her clothing. </p><p>Nothing happened except some over-the-clothes groping and a kiss here and there. Nothing!</p><p>It’s too late to convince Sirius of that now, however, and it’s a lost cause at any rate. It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s legal now, age is no longer an issue. </p><p>Tom fiddles with the zipper of her skirt, “Off.” He slings the garment aside and suddenly she’s in nothing but her panties, on her back between the both of them, and oh god. “I guess we’re not talking anymore?” she asks Tom, because he likes to be in charge at all times.</p><p>“Nope,” Tom says, coming closer to take a nipple in his mouth, putting it between his teeth and gently biting down until Harry winces and fights against the instinct to push him away.</p><p>“Tom!” she whines.</p><p>“Don’t like that, do you?” Tom asks with a smirk, as if he doesn’t know.</p><p>“You know I don’t,” Harry pouts.</p><p>“Do you ever do anything she <em> likes</em>?” Sirius quips, looking intrigued, hands dropping to the sides as he watches them. He gets up then and walks over to the wardrobe, opening it and then opening the smaller cupboard. On the side are two bottles of wine, one red and one white, and on the other side is a section that functions a lot like a wixen fridge. The Seedy Hotel isn’t exactly a refined place to offer much choice, but Harry doubts a <em> good </em>wine is what Sirius is going for anyway.</p><p>Tom’s gaze is dark with intent. “Oh, <em> plenty</em>,” he says. </p><p>“I figure we should relax some more before we continue. Wine, anyone?” Sirius asks.</p><p>“Please,” Tom says with a nod.</p><p>“No, thank you,” Harry says shyly, feeling a little hysterical, because the two of them are buck naked, and they don’t seem to give a shit about it. Even as she thinks it, Tom’s pulling at her panties, throwing them somewhere near the door when she has wiggled out of them, and then she, too, is as naked as the day she was born, dear god.</p><p>Sirius doesn’t bother with glasses, just takes the bottle of wine with him back to the bed where he gets comfortable on Harry’s other side, though they’ve moved, all three against the headboard now and under the covers because it’s admittedly a bit chilly in the room, Harry in the middle. For long moments all that happens is Tom and Sirius sharing a bottle of wine between them, and Harry wonders if Tom can feel the effects of that while he’s corporeal. Does he get drunk? She wonders if one bottle is enough to find out, it’s definitely interesting.</p><p>Harry takes a few customary sips, but grimaces at the taste, a look that has Sirius in stitches. Still, she feels a little more relaxed after a while, or perhaps that’s just the comfortable silence between them. She feels more than sees Sirius’ hand traveling up her leg, and she can’t help the way her legs fall open slightly at his touch, and he pauses when he encounters her lack of underwear.</p><p>“Ah,” is all that comes out of his mouth, and he grins mischievously as his hand continues its way up, avoiding her sex entirely and landing on her pelvis. “Has Tom ever gone down on you?”</p><p>Tom pulls a face, which is an answer in itself.</p><p>“You’re <em> so </em>gay, aren’t you?” Sirius guesses finally.</p><p>“Mostly,” Tom answers honestly. It explains so much, and it’s a wonder Harry hasn’t thought of it herself. She probably should have, all the signs are there. She can just be… particular obtuse at times, even when she’s observant as hell at other moments. “I don’t mind bedding Harry, though. She’s a treat.” </p><p>Harry knows exactly what he’s talking about, and she’s not quite as enthusiastic about it as she pretends to be, at least not in the moment itself, but for Tom she’s willing to do a lot, and apparently having painful sex because he likes to see ‘something large go into something small’ sometimes falls under that umbrella. </p><p>Sirius raises a skeptical eyebrow. “With tits like that it’s pretty hard to forget she’s a girl,” he says, using the bottle of wine to point at said tits while he says that.</p><p>“I will never forget that. We just have… a connection. She’s <em> special </em>to me.”</p><p>“If you say so,” Sirius says with a shrug, and that’s that. “You’re so tense, sweetheart, let me help you relax, hmm? Hold this, Tom,” he instructs, handing Tom the bottle before ducking under the covers and between her legs, grinning beautifully up at her from his position. </p><p>“O-okay then,” Harry stammers nervously, feeling as if she’s put on display.</p><p>Tom makes it worse by pulling on the duvet just enough to uncover Sirius’ torso, so that he can actually see something, leaning back against the pillows and taking a log sip from the bottle. “Go on, then,” he says curiously, looking interested enough in the proceedings to want to watch.</p><p>It doesn’t feel like much.</p><p>Sirius’ mouth on her feels wet and <em> weird </em> and in the silence around them, the sounds are strange if not downright dirty. At first it’s just the sight of him between her legs that gets to her as he licks her clit leisurely. He plays with her sensitive little nub without much direction, like he has all the time in the world and is prepared to stay down there for a while. Her breathing hitches when he goes a little lower, licking her opening and her lips, but that too feels weird, worse even, and she squirms until he goes back to her clit, the hint taken.</p><p>Sirius gropes for her hand then drops it in his hair, and she marvels at how soft it is, though of course taking note of that is hardly the point. Slowly but surely she relaxes, and she sighs, his attention starting to feel nice. Not good, just <em> nice,</em> and she thinks she’d like to stay like this for ages, but she doubts that’s what Sirius has in mind. She winces a little when he sucks on her clit, and automatically her fist closes around a handful of his hair.</p><p>“Too much?” he asks.</p><p>“Yeah,” she says breathlessly.</p><p>Then her toes curl in the sheets when he does it again, lighter this time, her back arching off the pillows with a loud gasp. Some sort of switch has been flipped because Sirius goes from getting her to relax to getting her worked up and <em> fast</em>, burning her up from the inside out. He’s relentless, building her up until her chest is heaving with it, until she’s so close she can taste it on the back of her tongue, then dropping her in free fall back to a level that doesn’t make her want to pull on her own hair with pleasure and frustration.</p><p>His tongue is amazing on her clit, but she needs more, something inside her, the need to be filled overwhelming anything else she feels. Sirius reads her easily, pulling back to use his fingers to play with her instead, and she hears herself moaning like some common harlot  but can’t get herself to stop, doesn’t know what to do with herself.</p><p>He shifts until he’s hovering above her, not quite kissing her but close. “You need something inside you,” he states more than asks, running his fingers through her wet slit, teasing fingertips lingering at her entrance but not pushing in further. He pulls on her rim, stretching her slightly, and she winces, tight again after two months of not having anything up there.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agrees mindlessly, canting her hips, desperate for his touch, overheated with need. “Sirius, please, fuck me, <em> please</em>.”</p><p>“A treat, didn’t I tell you?” Tom murmurs.</p><p>“I can see that,” Sirius agrees. He runs his hands down her flanks. “Easy there, baby,” he whispers.</p><p>He lowers his mouth to hers to kiss her. She tastes herself and the disgusting wine on his lips and something else that she can’t place, something that’s quite possibly just Sirius. She’s lost herself in him and she doesn’t quite know up from down anymore when he deepens the kiss, tongue curling around hers, dominating her. She’s quivering like a feather in the wind, floating in the breeze that is Sirius Black, as if drunk.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>And Sirius <em> gets </em>it, finally, sees what his previous self must have seen in her, the potential for it at any rate, since according to the girl they never did more than a bit of groping. He pulls her closer, lifting her up easily and depositing her in his lap, his shaft sliding between her legs, and she whines, gyrating her hips invitingly. </p><p>“Shit, baby, you <em> really </em>want to get fucked, don’t you?” Sirius asks, chuckling. She’s really something, he can see that much. He looks at Tom. “Does she always get like this?”</p><p>“Mhmm,” is the answer, his smile wicked.</p><p>“Sensitive, isn’t she,” Sirius says, and he gently lays her down on her back, lying between her legs and covering her, pressing kisses to her hot skin. She’s shaking like a leaf, laid bare and vulnerable, a lovely little gift unwrapped.</p><p>“Very sensitive, in more ways than one,” Tom agrees easily. “She’s generally a bright little thing, but sex makes her quite stupid, in case you hadn’t guessed that yet,” he tells the other man casually. He makes a sweeping gesture with the hand holding the bottle of wine still. “Looks like you did quite a number on her.”</p><p>“Will she remember?” It feels odd to Sirius to talk about her like she’s not there, but she’s not complaining, seems to be caught up in the moment, enjoying his wandering hands on her body with a small smile on her face, her large green eyes staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“Harry?” Tom asks, poking her thigh with his foot.</p><p>“Hmm, yes?” She looks annoyed at having been disturbed.</p><p>“Answer your godfather, darling,” Tom says.</p><p>She notably shivers under his hands, but the room has warmed up so there’s no way the girl is cold. Interesting response to such an innocent request. “Godfather?” Sirius mouths to himself, thinking that this explains quite a few things. Not just her father’s best friend, but her <em> godfather</em>. Well, well, well, this is getting more interesting by the minute. He’s so glad he was the one to go to their room. </p><p>To think he may have missed out on this weird turn of events otherwise!</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Harry stirs slowly, slapping at Tom’s foot, sharp toenails digging into her flesh. “What was the question?” she asks lazily, enjoying the way Sirius is laying kisses down her throat. This wasn’t something she thought she could ever have, but here she is. If she closes her ears to what the men are talking about, she can picture her own Sirius doing this with her. What she wouldn’t give to have him healthy and sound of mind in bed with her.</p><p>“I asked if you’ll remember this, but it seems you’re not as far gone as I thought you were,” Sirius says.</p><p>“Not yet,” Harry agrees idly, waiting for his next move. She’s usually not this passive, but she’s enjoying seeing where the men in the room are taking this, waiting to see where they’re leading her.</p><p>Sirius paws at her until she gets the memo and turns around in his arms, pressing her arse back against his cock, and he groans, arms tightening their hold around her waist. “Suck him, baby, and I promise I’ll take care of you.”</p><p>“You gonna fuck me?” she dares ask.</p><p>He grunts. “You want that? Tom, what’ll she have?”</p><p>Tom <em> laughs</em>. “Whatever you want.” </p><p>Harry doesn’t get the chance to ask what that means because that’s when Tom chooses to feed her his cock, pushing the spongy tip past her lips. He feels so real, it’s hard to imagine that he’s just a shade or whatever he really is, a horcrux. Harry dislikes giving head, especially the way she’s sitting now, unable to see anything but his stomach and his groin, sinking down until her nose touches his pelvis. Her jaw already hurts and she can’t wait for it to stop, but Tom likes it, so she continues, her gag reflex weak and easily conquered. He usually enjoys just staying down her throat until he’s almost desperate with the need to fuck her mouth, so she settles in, gets comfortable.</p><p>Sirius tilts her arse higher up in the air, and she arches her back, exposing herself fully to him, more of a hint than to give him a good view of herself. She just wants something in her, she doesn’t really care what at this point.</p><p>“Whatever I want?” Sirius repeats.</p><p>“Apart from anal, she’s not a fan of that,” Tom says, and she can hear the smirk in his voice even though she can’t see it. “Not yet at any rate. Maybe one day.”</p><p>She longs to pull off his cock and claim that no, <em> never</em>, but Tom is persuasive and she’s given in to things before even when she really didn’t want to do them—such as the blowjobs he loves so much, having her between his legs and just suck on him while he relaxes, much like he’s doing now, not in any hurry yet.</p><p>“Well, let’s get you all slicked up and ready,” Sirius murmurs.</p><p>As he says that, he pushes a finger inside her. Her toes curl and she keens around Tom’s cock, gagging a little as she sinks down further, nose pressed against the base of his cock. She pulls off, the ache in her jaw the only thing she can really focus on, ridding the moment of enjoyment, and she thinks she’ll choke if she doesn’t. She gasps for air, and then he adds a second one.</p><p>“Like that, do you?” Sirius asks cheekily. “What if I want milk and sugar?” he asks Tom next, slowly, as if testing him.</p><p>But Tom just shrugs, even as Harry is wondering what the hell they’re talking about. “Go for it,” he says with a nod. “Her godfather would’ve done it and she does wish to play pretend.”</p><p>“Would have done what?” Harry asks a little breathlessly.</p><p>“Fucked you raw without bothering to pull out,” Tom says bluntly.</p><p>There is no way that Sirius doesn’t feel the way her pussy squeezed the life out of his fingers, no way that he doesn’t notice the way she pushed back against him, spreading her legs just a bit further. The idea of it heats her up further. He pumps his fingers in and out of her then, and soon she’s clutching the sheets, her mouth open in a silent scream, eyes closed as he works her pussy with his clever digits. It feels incredible, and she can feel the pleasure spread through her entire body. She pushes her arse further out, her body locking up, <em> so </em> close, hands fisting the sheets, almost ripping them apart with the force of her upcoming climax, and then right when she’s about to fall off that cliff, he <em> stops</em>.</p><p>“FUCK!” she screams, her body convulsing and her legs jerking wildly, her hips gyrating uselessly because his hand just moves along with her, fingers firmly wedged inside her pussy but unmoving. She presses the side of her face against the cool sheets with a sob, wheezing wetly, trying to get her body under control.</p><p>“I think I have an idea of what kind of man your godfather was,” Sirius says. </p><p>“I doubt that,” Harry says pants.</p><p>But Sirius seems determined. “Call it intuition,” he says lightly.</p><p>Harry wished to snap at him, but it’s Sirius, and she finds herself unable to. “Well, whatever it is, I’m not on birth-control so unless you fancy knocking me up, you should probably pull out,” she says with a lot less bite in her voice than she wants.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“You’re assuming I’d have a problem with that.”</p><p>The thoughts come out of nowhere, blindsiding him, but he knows without a doubt that they are part of who he used to be, pulled from the depths of his mind. He doesn’t know what state his previous self was in, but if the desires coursing through his veins are any indication, he wasn’t much of a good man, only just enough to recognise that what he wanted wasn’t what was best for the girl.</p><p>Sirius leans forward, covering with his body to whisper in her ear, “I wanted to keep you all to myself, didn’t I? Keep you at home with me. I begged you to stay with me, didn’t I? Answer me, baby.”</p><p>“Yes,” the girl moans. </p><p>He pushes his fingers in as far as they can go, stroking her insides as a reward. “You see, I would’ve fucked you if I thought I could stay away from you after, but I knew that once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”</p><p>Above them, Tom is looking on with admiration in his gaze, impressed.</p><p>Sirius takes his fingers out and lines his cock up at her entrance instead, dragging it through the wet mess between her legs before pushing his cockhead past her opening. Even after his fingers the girl’s still impossibly tight, pussy clamped down on him like a vise, fucking unbelievable. He works himself inside in increments, her protests going in one ear and out the other, his focus on not shooting his load right there and then.</p><p>He knows in his bones that if his previous self could have had her like this, he’d never have let her go back to that school of hers.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It helps that Tom’s holding her, shushing her even though her weak protests have petered out by now, the pain receding and intense pleasure taking over at the feeling of being filled so well, so differently from Tom, with the knowledge this is a natural cock rather than something swollen with pure magic. It’s <em> different</em>, it’s her godfather, it’s Sirius inside of her.</p><p>It’s Sirius who pulls her back on his cock every time he pushes in, the sound of flesh of flesh echoing through the hotel room. He goes slow and hard and deep, so deep in fact she’s wincing from it, but she wants to give him this, the same way she lets Tom have his way, because she loves—she loves it when they use her like this, when all they do is <em> take</em>.</p><p>Tom directs his cock back between her lips but it’s difficult to concentrate on anything with the way Sirius is pounding her, so she just ends up licking his shaft, mouthing at his skin while she gasps for air with every sharp thrust. Maybe if she wasn’t so sensitive, if she wasn’t so desperate for their combined touch, she could’ve done more for Tom, but as it is, the only thing she can do is let the pleasure wash over her, stealing her thoughts.</p><p>Sirius’ pace is brutal and all Harry can do is hold onto the sheets and take it, one large palm between her shoulder-blades pressing her down to the bed, another on her hip and a third in her hair. Sirius speeds up and she spreads her legs wider for him, trying to get closer, to get more of him and she wishes he had his arms around her, holding her tightly, but this will have to do. </p><p>One of their hands disappears between her legs and fingers are on her clit and her orgasm comes fast and hard, taking the three of them by surprise as she shudders violently on Sirius’ cock, her pussy trying to push him out. His grip on her hips strengthens and he stays where he is, though it’s impossible for him to keep moving, her pussy drawn tight. Then her body goes lax, and Sirius curses at the way she opens up for him, and he rolls his hips again.</p><p>It’s clear Sirius is chasing his own high now that Harry’s taken care of, her entire body gone slack. Harry can hear Tom and Sirius talk over her head, but her mind is spinning in circles and none of the words register. Tom has a hand in her hair, stroking her softly rather than pulling on her locks. Then her world turns and she’s on her back and Sirius hangs over her with one elbow propped up beside her head, but she’s too out of it to appreciate the view of his flexed muscles.</p><p>He fucks her hard and fast, and she finds that all she can do is hold on to his arms and moan pathetically, her breath and her words stolen from her. When his rhythm starts to falter and his cock feels bigger than ever there’s a teensie tiny part of her that wants to struggle, but she arches her into his touch and pushes back against him, the majority of her brain filled with nothing but, “<em> Sirius is fucking me raw and he’s going to come deep inside of me no matter what I do</em>.” </p><p>And she <em> wants </em>him to.</p><p>He climaxes with a rough grunt and the rasp of her name on his lips, grinding in deeply with nowhere left to go and keeping still, filling her insides with come. “Goddamn,” he says hoarsely, dropping to his elbows and leaning down to kiss her, his cock twitching inside her. She wants him to stay in her until he goes soft but doesn’t have the courage to voice that wish, and so all too soon he pulls out carefully, his cock still half-hard and they’re both dripping his come onto the sheets.</p><p>Harry’s brain is positively fried when Tom switches places with Sirius and enters her, but it becomes apparent quickly that he’s close, has been that way for a while. She feels him swell up, that little magic trick he does to make himself so big it’s almost too much, and he fucks her without much regard for her, chasing his own pleasure, making use of her opened pussy, Sirius’ come acting as a lube to ease the way.</p><p>She doesn’t quite know what happens then, cockdrunk and dropping, her head lolling. She knows Sirius is kissing her but it doesn’t register, and then Tom comes, and that doesn’t register either, but she mourns the loss of his cock inside her even as he fills her too, adds to the mess already between her legs.</p><p>Sirius and Tom are kissing above her, their large hands roaming her body while they’re making out like a pair of teenagers, and slowly she drifts off.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When she wakes up, it’s just Tom and Harry again and the sun is coming up. </p><p>She sits up with a gasp. “Shit!” she groans. “They’re going to murder me.”</p><p>Tom chuckles. “Relax. I’m the Dark Lord, Harry, I can just confound them, they won’t suspect a <em> thing</em>,” he says, sounding very self-satisfied.</p><p>Harry gives a surprised laugh, though she doesn’t doubt that. “Oh please don’t.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~fin.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bonus Scene I Didn't Know What To Do With</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is already high up in the sky when Harry sneaks back in through the backdoor, but it slams closed behind her and she winces. Tom’s locket pulses twice, but she doesn’t need him to tell her she’s a fool. She makes her way down to the kitchen, starving, and then she winces once more when she spots Hermione and Ron sitting at the table,<em> waiting for her </em>. “Ah, shite,” she sighs, drawing back her hood before she sits down across them.</p><p>Hermione’s mouth is drawn tight. “<em>Where </em> have you been,” she says flatly. “We were worried sick, do you understand that?”</p><p>“Yes, mum,” Harry mutters.</p><p>“I’m serious!” Hermione slams the newspaper on the table, then shoves it toward Harry. “Read it, I <em> dare </em>you.”</p><p>Harry does.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> POTTER: TEA WITH THE ENEMY? </em>
</p><p><em> Just last night, Girl-Who-Lived Harry Potter was spotted at The Seedy Hotel, the infamous brothel in Knockturn Alley that has eluded a shutdown for years now. Potter was seen with a man claiming to be none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Insiders spin an interesting tale of an illicit affair that started months ago in the bowels of the brothel. “They’re always in room 4,” one anonymous source claims… </em> blah blah blah... <em> a man claiming to be Sirius Black. </em></p><p> </p><p>Harry makes a disgusted sound.</p><p>“Got something to tell us?” Hermione asks sharply.</p><p>Harry’s arm comes up and she scratches the back of her neck. “It’s all lies.”</p><p>Hermione just stares at her.</p><p>“Most of it.” Harry clears her throat. “Some of it.”</p><p>Ron groans and gently smacks his face against the table. “<em>Harry</em>.”</p><p>“We went there <em> once</em>,” Harry says with a roll of her eyes.</p><p>“We!” Hermione repeats as she folds up the newspaper again. “We who?”</p><p>Harry can’t help herself. She can’t. “You <em> know </em>who.”</p><p>Hermione promptly smacks her with the newspaper, expression thunderous. “You’re lucky nobody believes it! Why didn’t you tell us the locket got to you?”</p><p>“It hasn’t, though.”</p><p>“Sorry not sorry but it really needs to go,” Ron says.</p><p>Harry ignores them both and reaches for an apple from the fruit bowl. It looks bruised but edible enough.</p><p>“Give me the locket, Harry,” Hermione says quietly. </p><p>Harry instantly closes her fist around it. “No,” she bites out. “I mean, I’ll hand it over.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~(unsatisfying ending that may or may not be continued, but most likely not, so don't hold me to that pls)</p>
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